


A Reasonable Proposition

by misura



Category: Kitchen Confidential
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-18
Updated: 2012-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-10 05:59:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steven makes a suggestion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Reasonable Proposition

"Perfect solution to all of your problems," Steven said.

Jack laughed. A lesser man's feelings might have gotten hurt, but Steven knew his Jack. Uncertainty, was what it was. Insecurity. And also possibly that drink which might have had just a wee drop more alcohol in it than advertised but then, what were friends for? "I don't think so."

"You porked the boss's mistress, you came _this_ close to turning into fish food. You porked Becky, you almost lost us any chance we had at getting the big award. You pork the new boss - well, past experience would seem to suggest this is _not_ going to end well."

"Mimi's all right," Jack said.

"Mimi's an obsessive, compulsive control freak. Really hot in the sack, I'm sure, but in the end, it's all going to end with yelling and screaming and throwing stuff, and then where are you going to be?" More importantly: where were the rest of them going to be?

Jack was an okay guy, really he was. Just needed a bit of steering in the right direction sometimes.

"So I should tell her I'm gay?"

"You're not _gay_ ," Steven said. Jack might have gotten better at the whole lying thing, but not _that_ good. It took a hell of a lot more than what good old Jack had to pull off a successful 'it's not you, it's me, and I'll still always respect you as a very special friend' by way of saying 'not if you were the last woman on Earth, okay?'. Not even _Steven_ was able to pull off that one.

Jack gave him a slightly hurtful look. "I'm sorry, but gay sex with you? Not the best way to prevent that yelling and screaming and throwing stuff you were so worried about, all right?"

"It wouldn't be _sex_ ," Steven said. "Or, well, okay it would be sex, but it wouldn't be _gay_ sex. Just, you know, regular sex. With your best friend. Think about it."

"No," Jack said, but his tone said 'yes', and that slight bulge in his pants didn't exactly spell out 'not interested' to Steven.

Still, have to give the man some space. "Well, I don't mean _now_. Just thought I'd put it out there. For your consideration."

"You're not gay either," Jack said. "So what's this about all of a sudden? You need a place to crash, just ask. Hell, just drop by and dump your bags someplace I won't fall over it and almost break my neck in the middle of the night when I get up to get a glass of water."

One time. One _bloody_ time. "You made out with me when you were drunk once. Twice, maybe."

"That doesn't mean anything, and what do you mean ' _maybe_ twice'?" Jack looked like any woman Steven had ever unsuccessfully avoided after not calling them back the morning after.

Steven shrugged.

"It was pretty good though," Jack said. "I mean, in my memory. I mean, I was drunk at the time."

"Not drunk now, are you?" Well, a bit, actually. Not enough to impair his judgment though, Steven was reasonably sure. 'Pretty good', for crying out loud.

Jack licked his lips. "No, but ... are you _serious_ about this?"

"Am I ever?" Women were supposed to want commitment, but Steven knew that was bullshit. Women wanted the same thing men did: spectacular, amazing sex.

The commitment thing crept in when they wanted you to make that spectacular, amazing sex available to them 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and never mind that you had other things to do, people to see, jobs to show up for.

"I'm going to regret this in the morning," Jack said. "I just know I am."

"You don't have any regrets the next morning, you did something wrong the night before," Steven said, even if personally, he rarely regretted anything beyond that one last drink that he rationally knew hadn't actually made much of a difference to his hang-over either way. "Or rather: you didn't."

"Just kissing, right?"

"Well, you're probably going to fall asleep on me anyway."

"That happens to you a lot? Maybe you should think about what that means, work on your technique a little."

"Funny. Not."


End file.
